Chasing Cars
by AssassinOfRome
Summary: Aunt Agatha offends Bertie and he and Jeeves run away in the middle of the night. But in their haste, they are involved in a unfortunate accident which leaves Bertie unconscious. First story in this context. J/W Slash. ITV. Read, review and enjoy! AOR
1. Crashing

**This is a result of me being very, very bored in a Humanities lesson. Also, I have turned over to the slash side of the force! *gasps* Oh well. This, House/Wilson and Mycroft/Lestrade are my only slash couplings. The End. AOR**

Our car trundled along the dark road, my master in the driving seat with his pale gloved nimble pianist's hands clutching the wheel hard. He bit his pink full lip and sighed, looking down at his knees.

"What's wrong, sir?" I asked, politely. He shook his head, looking up at me with his big beautiful blue eyes which I noticed with some alarm were shining slightly with tears.

"It's just Aunt Agatha." He replied sadly. I should have seen his upset coming. The lady in question had been extremely harsh towards my darling but I had no indication it would have upset him this badly. "She's always getting at me. She said that I'm useless and no-one will ever love me. She even said that she bets my parents are glad they're dead so they don't have to face the shame of having such an idiot for a son. Apparently, I disgrace the good name of Wooster and that I should run away and join the circus. I only wish I could! And it bally well hurts, Jeeves! But she's right. No-one loves me and I'm a fool." I patted his hand comfortingly as he began to cry in his own quiet way, hanging his head and sniffling. He didn't like anyone watching him cry and I was filled with a colossal anger. That woman had no right to make my Bertie cry like that. She may have been his aunt but she certainly wasn't his mother. She would have to face one angry valet if we ever stayed with her again. This was unlikely as, brilliantly out of character, we had donned our travelling clothes and gone on a moonlight flit away from Brinkley Manor. I had packed everything in advance, knowing that we had a snowball's chance in Hell of going back after what she had said at dinner.

"I love you sir." I whispered. Even though it was the dead of night, we still couldn't risk anyone knowing. Our love was frowned upon by even the most lenient people. We were screaming benders with no more right to be on God's Clean Earth than a weasel. I can't really remember when I stopped caring though. Gently, I lifted my master's chin and stroked his tears away with my thumb.

"I know Jeeves." He smiled his, although watery, still beautiful smile. I was captivated. Slowly, I leaned forward with my hand still lying on his cheek. Suddenly, we both lurched forward. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. Hesitantly, I opened one eyes several seconds later. The car was a wreck but luckily nothing was on fire. The windscreen had smashed and pieces of glass showered the area like a blanket of snow. I looked around. Somehow, I was completely fine except for some minor bruising. The same could not be said for my lover. Dark red blood coated the steering wheel. Quickly, I flipped Bertie over. He was completely out of it and blood was pooling from his head. I gasped. I had no idea of what to do.


	2. Dreaming

At some point, we managed to get back to Brinkley Manor. I must have managed to drive but I'm not sure as my sticky cheeks were evidence that I had been crying for at least 5 minutes. Someone had tended to Bertie's wounds but still he did not wake. In the immeasurable time since we had arrived back, I had scarcely left my master's side. He would have laughed at my 'feudal spirit'. But now he lay still and as pale as the bandage that was wrapped around his forehead. A dark patch of blood was threatening to seep through the thin fabric and my hands ached to adjust it but I knew it would do more harm than good. So I just sat next to my Bertie, clasping his hand like a frightened child. What if he never awoke? What if he died? Sobbing quietly, I clung on harder. I need Bertram Wilberforce Wooster; he was my air, the life force that propelled me through this world. Something shimmered into my mind. Suddenly, I was at our London flat. Mr. Wooster was smiling brightly at me, alive and well, with his cheeks slightly flushed. I realized he was tapping out a tune on the piano.

"Just let them talk,

If they want to?

That don't bother me.

I'm gonna keep on till the whole wide world knows,

That I really love you, I really love you so." My master's voice was low and husky. His eyes were glittering with pure joy. He continued.

"And let them whisper for they know no-

What's between you and I

I'm gonna keep on, I´am gonna on loving you?

Till the day that I die?

They'll try to break up our romance,

They didn't stand a chance.

We have the kind of love that so strong,

We'd be together from now on?" I listened intently. He had obviously tried so hard to please me; the hopeful gleam in his blue eyes told me as much. And please me, he did. Every note was perfect, every word sang with pride and passion. I was blown away.

"They'll say that gossip comes from the devil's workshop,

And only true love can make it stop?

I'm gonna keep on, I'm gonna on loving you!

Till the day that I drop?

Oh they'll envy us, of everything that we do.

But I wanna say it´s wonderful -

When you love someone,

And that someone and that someone really loves you,

And Jeeves, you're that someone, that someone,

I really love you!" Bertie stopped singing and skillfully ended the song. He turned to look at me, eyes wide and sad. I almost drowned in them, unable to speak or move. Then the unthinkable happened. Bertie started to fade.

"Don't go!" I cried, reaching out for him. But he was gone. One silvery tear slipped down his cheek as he finally vanished. I awoke with a start, screaming my master's name at the top of my lungs. He hadn't moved, of course. The song, however beautiful it may have been, was just a figment of my imagination. But that didn't stop me from kissing Bertie passionately on the lips. There was a cough from behind me and I pulled away. The cough belonged to Angela.

"Well, what do we have here?"

**Wow. I haven't written in ages! The song is Let Them Talk by Hugh Laurie *insert smiley face* What will happen in Chapter 3? All shall be revealed... at some point! AOR**


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